


Found But Still Lost

by MaddieandChimney



Series: Multi-Chapter Fics [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Injury, angry!buck standing in between anyone who tries to hurt his sister and niece, mentions of gun shot wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24587329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieandChimney/pseuds/MaddieandChimney
Summary: She feels as though he died that day and he wasn't coming back.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Series: Multi-Chapter Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815556
Comments: 21
Kudos: 46
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales, Madney One-Shots, The Buckley Siblings One Shots





	1. Chapter 1

She feels as though he died that day.

Sometimes, she kind of wishes he had. Because even when he’s standing right in front of her, she doesn’t recognise the man looking back at her. At least when he _died_ he still loved her, at least she could have clung to the fact that his last words to her were him expressing exactly that. But then, he’d be gone, and she hates herself for being so selfish. He’s alive, he’s breathing and he’s back at work, helping people.

The Chimney who loved her, who she loved, died that day. And the more time that passes, the more she’s starting to doubt he’s coming back to her. He’s not even _trying_. And maybe that hurts more than him not remembering because he can’t help that – he was trying to save someone else’s life, the fact he had been shot for his heroics wasn’t his fault. Coma; most definitely was not his fault, and the resulting amnesia? Again, not his fault. And she tried, she tried so hard not to blame him, not to _hate_ him or be angry with him.

But he wasn’t _trying_.

He could remember Kevin dying, barely. Anything after that? Gone. It came back in bits and pieces – eventually, he could remember Hen, and then Bobby, even Buck. But he wasn’t the same person that they all knew and loved, there was a bitterness she couldn’t explain and sometimes, she felt as though he just simply, didn’t want to remember.

He hates her and she wishes more than anything that she can understand why. She’s carrying his child and he still looks at her like she means nothing to him. This isn’t Chimney, it isn’t any version of Chimney she’s heard about, not pre-rebar as Hen constantly reminds her and not pre-Kevin dying as Mrs Lee says when she tries to comfort her.

Her heart physically hurts as she stands there awkwardly, looking at him, waiting for him to say something, _anything_. But he’s just looking from her, to her ever-swelling stomach and then at the scan photograph she had just placed in his hands. There’s not an ounce of recognition in his eyes and she wants to reach out and kiss him, in the hopes that maybe it’ll trigger something. Maybe it’ll bring back the version of Chimney _she_ loves, the version she needs and their baby needs. It’s been six months since he looked at her like she was his entire world, six months since he kissed her then flat stomach goodbye and told them both that he loved them. Six months since Bobby had turned up at dispatch and told her that Chimney needed her.

“Don’t you feel anything?” She finally breaks the silence between them, hating how awkward it is now. Even at the beginning, when he was in her apartment helping her to feel safe, there was never any awkwardness. Her bottom lip quivers and she can’t stop the tears from falling as she steps forward, daring herself to take his hand, but before she can, he pulls away from her as though she’s burnt him. Her fingers only brushing against his skin for just a few seconds, and a part of her hopes it’s enough. As though somehow, if he just lets her close enough, all the memories of their year together will come flooding back. “C-can’t you try? You would have fought for me, once, you would have tried. Can’t you just try, please?”

She’s more than aware that she’s begging him, she’d get down on her knees if she could and if she thought it would make a blind bit of difference. It’s been just over four months since he opened his eyes and pulled his hand from hers, since she had first seen that look of confusion on his face, the vacant look in his eyes when he stared at her. “Please?” She closes the gap between them, only able to because his back hits the wall and she essentially has him trapped.

“Just… kiss me once and if you don’t feel anything, if you don’t remember… I’ll drop it. I promise. I’ll stop coming around, I’ll stop… trying so hard. I’ll leave you alone.” He’s contemplating it and when he nods, there’s an entirely new surge of hope because she’s so sure it’ll work. She’s willing to forgive and forget the last few months because she can’t begin to understand how it must feel to have your whole life that you’ve worked so hard for, ripped away without seeing it coming.

His lips are on hers, and her hands clench, her fingers digging into the palm of her hand in an attempt to stop herself from reaching out and grabbing him. He’s not the Chimney she loves, not the one she fell in love with but his lips still feel the same, and for a minute, she allows herself to have just a moment of hope.

Until he pulls back and shakes his head, “Nothing. I feel nothing.” It hurts – she’s suffered beatings less painful than what she feels right then. Her entire body is shaking, and she finds herself stumbling back. He’d been distant, downright rude at times but never… purposely cruel. She finds herself angrily swiping at the tears that fall, wishing she could save her heartbreak until she’s as far away from him as possible.

The Chimney she loved would have held her as she cried, he would have run his fingers through her hair, pulling her impossibly close as he whispered words of comfort in her ear. He would have let her cry it out, and then tried to make her laugh when she was done. _That’s_ the Chimney she remembered, the one who was about to become a father. She didn’t know who this person was.

His eyes are emotionless, as he shrugs his shoulders, “Save your tears.” He pushes past her, quickly heading towards the door of his own apartment, “I’m done here.”

She feels as though he died that day and he wasn’t coming back. 

* * *

Buck is seething with rage as he storms through the firehouse, his eyes immediately settling on the subject of his anger through the glass of the locker room. It crosses his mind for a second that it would be a good time to walk away, because he didn’t trust himself not to kill the man, but the innate desire to protect his big sister drives him forward.

He doesn’t give any warning, doesn’t say a single word before his fist makes contact with Chimney’s unsuspecting face. It doesn’t feel nearly enough to ease the burning wrath that is coursing through his body. He doesn’t hesitate to grab his collar, slamming him up against the lockers, “You’re lucky I promised her I wouldn’t kill you.” He spits, his fists clenching tightly around the fabric of the other man’s shirt in an attempt to stop himself from doing what he really wants to do right then – one punch doesn’t feel enough but he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop if he goes any further.

He feels relieved when both Bobby and Eddie are moving to pull him back, Eddie’s arms wrapped tightly around him in an attempt to stop him from lunging back towards the man he had once considered to be a brother. Now, he’s barely a colleague, mostly a stranger he has to make small talk with every so often in the hopes it’ll trigger something within him.

It never does.

“What the hell is going on?” Bobby, their Captain, is the first to speak, going between the two men as Chimney looks ready to fight back at any given opportunity. There’s an anger in his face that Buck knows they never would have seen if he was _their_ Chimney, he doesn’t know who this person is but he sure as hell isn’t the man he trusted with his sisters heart.

Buck doesn’t tear his eyes from Chimney when he responds, the hope that there will be some form of recognition or care or… anything. “He kissed Maddie, and then told her he felt nothing. He kissed my heavily pregnant sister and destroyed any hope she had that he was coming back to her.”

There’s nothing in his eyes, just the cold, hard stare Buck had grown accustomed to over the past four months. The stark contrast to the caring eyes of the Paramedic he had trusted with not only his life, but the life of his sister’s. “She practically begged me to kiss her and what was I meant to do? Lie?”

“Yes!” Buck practically screams, his best friends grip tightening on him when he feels the way he tenses. “You should have lied! You should have… fucking hell, you should have apologised or anything! Anything would have been better than leaving her standing in your apartment, crying.” His anger is quickly being replaced by the sadness he feels – for Maddie, for his unborn niece, for the Chimney he knew who would be devasted at the very thought of making the woman cry and for himself and the team, because they all lost a friend. “I’ve been up all night, holding my very pregnant, heartbroken sister because you just couldn’t… try.” 

The more his anger depletes, Chimney’s increases, his face red, it’s only Bobby’s hand on his chest that stops him from moving any closer to the youngest Buckley. “Isn’t it even crueller to pretend like I felt a fucking thing for her? I don’t know her! I don’t—” There’s a long pause, and for a moment, he looks as though he’s about to be sick before he shakes it off, “I don’t remember anything about her.” _But he wishes he did._ “She’s just some stranger carrying the baby of another stranger who just happens to share my DNA. She means nothing to me, the baby means nothing to me, I don’t know what the fuck you’re all expecting from me!”

His voice cracks, the only thing to give him away, causing Hen to finally move towards the man she once considered to be her best friend, in the hopes he’d want to lean on her. Instead, he shoves past them, and practically runs out of there, slamming the door behind him as he does so. For a moment, no one moves, until Buck’s knees collapse beneath him, sobs wracking his body, his face hiding in Eddie’s chest as he grips onto him. The arms of the other man wrapping around him usually brings him some comfort but right then, all he can think of is the fact his sister is in so much pain and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. It’s not until he calms down enough to pull back that he looks at Hen, sitting down on the bench with her head in her hands, “What was that about Buck? You know—he’s fragile, he doesn’t remember or doesn’t want to remember, I don’t know. What the hell were you thinking?”

He knows she’s right, he knows Maddie is going to hate him for ever laying a hand on the man she still loves, but instead of agreeing, he just shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He moves to scramble up, pushing Eddie’s arms away from him, “I’m done. I’m done with him and I’m done with all this bullshit. I can’t do this anymore, I’m done.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He can feel three pairs of eyes on him when Bobby speaks, and he just shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “She’s more important than pandering to him every day, I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired. Maddie’s tired. We’re done.”

He doesn’t bother looking behind him as he angrily wipes at the tears that have made their way down his face. Walking out of the firehouse for what he fully intends to be the last time.


	2. Chapter 2

The first flash comes unexpectedly, and he doesn’t even realise he’s said it until it’s out there, and the people around him are staring at him. Buck, who came back to the firehouse after only three days off (marched in by Maddie who apologised to Bobby profusely, completely avoiding any eye contact with Chimney until she managed to get out of there), drops his fork and frowns, “What did you say?”

“Maddie loves hot mustard.” He still has the pot of it in the open palm of his hand, not sure where the sudden flash came from, before he shakes it off. The anger quickly returns when no one goes back to eating, only staring at him as though he’s grown a second head. He quickly slams the pot down and walks away, wishing he hadn’t said anything aloud in the first place.

The second time, he’s glad he’s alone, it hits him like a tonne of bricks and ends in him running to the toilet to expel what little is in his stomach. His hands are shaking by the time he makes his way back to the bedroom, picking the small box up from where he had dropped it. It had been hidden in the back of the closet, far back, yet somehow, he had known exactly where to look. He can’t stop the way his fingers tremble when he brings the ring closer to his eyes, the words _So much joy_ engraved into the silver.

The memory of nervously looking at his best friend as he waits for the man behind the counter to pass him the box, telling them both how perfect it was. Coming home and hiding it in the back of the closet, where he knew his girlfriend would never look, not until they were both ready for him to ask.

The third time comes when she’s standing in front of him, holding their baby girl in her arms and he wants to kiss her. They’re standing in the firehouse and he sees a less exhausted, happier version of the woman in front of him and he can practically feel her lips against his, her hand on his cheek and then a small squeeze of his ear lobe. He can _feel_ it as though it’s happening right then, but it’s not, she’s standing there with tears in her eyes asking him if he wants to hold their child.

And he does.

But he also wants to kiss her, so he does.

It makes her cry but she doesn’t pull away. She also doesn’t kiss him back, or affectionately brush her thumb along his cheek as he remembers her doing and he wonders if he’s lost her forever. He also wonders when the thought of that started hurting.

When he’s holding his little girl for the first time, he’s relieved, because no one is looking at him as though he’s expected to remember. She’s new, all she knows is that he’s a safe pair of arms and all he knows is that, now that she’s in the world, he feels drawn to her in a way he never expected. He looks at her, and he _knows_ she’s his daughter, there’s no question of it as he pulls her close to his chest and in his head, promises her the world.

When Maddie takes her back and rushes out of there without so much as a goodbye, he feels the loss immediately. But he hates himself again, because he’s so sure he’s lost her for good, and a few months ago, maybe that feeling wouldn’t have bothered him but now, all he can think about is how he needs to know her, both of them.

It’s everything that leads him up to this moment, watching as the woman nervously bounces her leg, her eyes on him holding their tiny baby, a pained expression on her face. He both loves and hates that she no longer looks expectantly at him, as though she’s just accepted that he won’t remember the life they had together. A part of him wants to tell her that he’s started to have flashes, a few pieces of the puzzle here and there, but he doesn’t want to get her hopes up. He’s caused her a lifetime of pain over the last eight months, and he doesn’t know how, or if, he can fix it.

She looks as though she has the whole weight of the world on her shoulders, and he wonders how much of that is his fault. She’s a single mom, that was definitely never the plan when she was pregnant.

_“You’re pregnant?”_

_“We’re pregnant.”_

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, tears in his eyes before he focuses his attention on the sleeping two-week old baby in his arms. She’s perfect in every way possible, a fresh slate that he loved from the very first moment he held her in his arms. He’s grateful for every single second Maddie lets him hold her, especially after spending the majority of her pregnancy causing her pain – some of which he could have controlled.

Her eyes remain on him, and he gulps when he finally meets her gaze, “Sometimes when you look at me it’s like…it’s like you’re staring straight past my flesh and into my soul.” He doesn’t know where it comes from, hating himself (that’s a familiar feeling these days) when her cheeks turn red and she looks down at her lap, mumbling an apology. She barely talks to him anymore, just brings Amelia over to his apartment or to the firehouse to see him at least once every few days. He knows he pushed her too far when he told her he felt nothing and at the time, it was true. He wishes it wasn’t but now, whilst the memories were only coming in bursts, the heavy feeling in his heart was growing every single time he laid eyes on her.

“Can you come sit next to me?” He doesn’t expect her to move, but she slowly does and he has that growing self-loathing once again when he takes in just how exhausted she looks when she moves, slumping beside him. She used to have a sparkle in her eyes, he doesn’t know how he knows that, now they’re just… tired. He had overhead a conversation between Hen and Buck at the firehouse just a few days before, both of them worried about the woman and how difficult she was finding bringing his child into the world, without him.

She keeps the space between them, but he makes the executive decision to shuffle over, “Stay here tonight, I can help with the night feeds.”

“You don’t have—”

“Yes I do, and I want to.” It’s instinct, the ghost of the man he once was forcing him to press his lips to her temple, “Would you like to cuddle?” There’s a nervous undertone to his voice, but he still feels as though he’s asked her that before. “We don’t have to, if you’re not okay with that but… I think… I think I’d like to hold you, if that’s okay?”

There’s nothing from her for a moment, but she eventually gives a nod of her head, hastily moving to wipe at the tears that have made their way down pale cheeks, “Come on, Mads,” He doesn’t realise the term falling from his lips until she flinches, he stands up and shifts the sleeping baby to one arm so he can reach a hand out for her. He doesn’t remember everything, but he knows parts of her. The feel of her hand in his feels familiar, the way he pulls her up feels like an action he’s done a thousand times before, and when he pulls her towards the bedroom, he’s sure he’s walked the exact same path with her hundreds of times over.

He only lets go of her so they can both get ready for bed, handing her an old shirt he knows will fit, without having any clue it’s the one she’d always steal from him (the tears in her eyes when he hands it to her would have given her away if she actually looked at him). Amelia doesn’t wake when he sets her down in the bassinette next to his bed, and he finds himself staring down at her for a moment until he turns to her mother. It’s only a small smile and it doesn’t reach her eyes, but it’s beautiful, and he loves watching her tuck their daughter in as gently as she can, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.

They both stare in silence for a moment at this one perfect, shining light they created before their lives went to hell. Until Chimney pulls on her arm, leading her to the bed, neither of them have to say a word to understand the gravity of the moment. He hasn’t held her since the day he walked out of the apartment and never made it back home.

It happens suddenly, her resolve breaking the moment both his arms wrap around her and her head is resting on his chest, He can feel her nails digging into the skin of his stomach, and feel the way her entire body is shaking with quiet sobs. “You’re okay,” He whispers, his grip tightening when his own tears begin to fall. He wants to say sorry, he wants to tell her that he hates how much his anger got in the way of what he should have done – her pregnancy should have been something joyful but he’s sure he had a massive hand in making it a living hell.

“We’re okay.” He feels the impact of the words, and pulls her even closer to him, burying his face in the top of her head.

“I needed you.” Her words feel like someone has just stabbed him through the heart, and he gulps, knowing that there is nothing he could say to change everything he had said, or not said, and done or not done over the past few months.

Instead, he breathes her in and lets her cry, rubbing her arms as he does so, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Maddie.” An apology is all he can come up with right then, knowing it’ll never be enough, not for what both of them have lost. All he can do is whisper those words over and over again, holding her tightly until eventually, he feels her body relax and her hands unclench from his shirt. It takes him a moment to realise she’s fallen asleep, his hand moving to run through her hair instead, the top of her head soaked from the tears he had cried with her, _for_ her… for them.

“I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of suicidal thoughts in this chapter, so please proceed with caution.

Sometimes, when Maddie glances at him, she can see glimpses of the Chimney she fell in love with. Sometimes, she catches him looking at her, only to quickly turn away before their eyes can meet. She often finds herself wondering if this new version of him can fall in love with her, too or if she can fall in love with him. She wants to ask him, but she’s almost too scared of the answer – not his, but hers. She still doesn’t know if she’s clinging onto the man she’s unsure is coming back to her or if the uncertainty of whether he will remember everything or not, is stopping her from trying to start again with him.

It’s only when she’s watching him angrily attack the punching bag in the firehouse gym, one evening, that she realises what she wants is _her_ Chimney. It’s strange – he’s right there, it’s his face and his body and sometimes he says all the right things but the Chimney she knew and loved, the one who she had been so excited to have a child with; he was different. Most of the time, he looks ready to burst with unresolved resentment and hatred for the world around him. His eyes aren’t the same, they aren’t as kind or loving as the ones she’s so used to. Maybe that’s her answer, maybe she has to push aside her desperation to have him back and start accepting that he’s gone. Probably for good.

It’s the ‘probably’ that keeps her going back for more.

Maddie finds herself hanging out at the firehouse a lot more than usual, it gives Chimney time with his daughter whilst also alleviating her of the obligation to take Amelia to his apartment so he can do so. She hates herself for it but sometimes she doesn’t feel safe to be around him, not on her own, her brother and their friends act as good buffers. It’s how she finds herself sitting on the bench in the locker room with Hen sitting next to her, changing Amelia’s diaper as she coos at the baby.

Her eyes are still on Chimney, the sweat dripping off him, his steel focus on the bag as his fists slam against it, harder and harder with each punch. “What do you think he’s so angry about?” She doesn’t mean to say it aloud, but she’s glad it’s Hen in the room with her when she does, knowing the woman is the one who spends the most time with him.

“Life.” Is the only answer she gets, and she sort of accepts it, until there’s a hand tightly clasping in her own, “I think he’s angry at himself, at the situation, at you, at me, Bobby, Buck, Eddie… everyone and everything. Because he knows we’re all waiting for these memories to come flooding back and for him to be the Chimney we all know and love, but none of us, including him, know if that’s actually going to happen. I think he hates himself, blames himself for not being able to remember… and hates us for wanting him to remember.”

It’s insightful, and honest, she’s grateful for it but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. She doesn’t want any version of Chimney to hate himself or to hate her. “D-do you think… maybe he can be himself without actually remembering everything?”

The hand in hers tightens, “I think life experiences, friendships, small events that can accumulate… like when he made the decision to go to your apartment to set up your security, that was a small event that eventually led to him coming to your apartment again with Mission Impossible, another small event… that eventually snowballed into something massive…. All of that made him the Chimney we knew and loved and without it.” She shrugs, “Then who is he?”

That was a firm no to her question.

“Do you think I should give up?”

“On him? Or on a relationship with him?”

She thinks about it, only for a second, “On a relationship. I can’t give up on him.” She looks over at the sleeping girl, “Amelia needs him.” It used to be her that needed him, now she’s not sure what she needs from him, or if he can give her what she does need.

“I’m not sure if I should be telling you this, or if it’ll even help or make things worse for you. But I don’t know if you’re ever going to find out… if it’ll ever happen for you.” She takes a deep breath, as though she’s trying to gather the confidence, Maddie squeezes her hand in return for all the times Hen has sat next to her and held her hand when she needed it the most. “Chimney was going to propose to you. H-he… we went ring shopping, he had it all planned out… that was what he wanted for the two of you. And I know you’ve lost something incredible but give him a chance. It won’t be the same, I don’t think he will be the Chimney we remember but… it’ll be something. You’ll have pieces of him, you can make something new with him.”

There are tears falling down both their faces, the two friends looking into each other’s eyes until Maddie rests her head on Hen’s shoulder with a sob. “I just don’t know if I want anything new, Hen, I want what we had. I don’t know if I want to start again with a man I already loved.”

“And no one would blame you no matter what you choose, Maddie. Just… choose.”

* * *

There had been no flashbacks in a while, even if he willed them to come, they never did. He wonders if he’s trying too hard, if he’s focusing on the past or rather, what he can’t remember about the past too much. As every day passes, without a new memory or any form of hope, he can feel the self-loathing bubbling inside of him, ready to burst.

Amelia is everything. He decided that from the very first time he held her. She is everything good in the world, with no clue who he was or who he could have been. She’s perfect, the one perfect thing in an otherwise dark world and he knows, if it wasn’t for her, he’d have called it a day a long time ago. Whether that meant running away and starting a new life where no one knew him as Chimney, or just… accepting that maybe he really couldn’t cheat death three times. Rebar, stabbed, shot. He didn’t ask the details, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know – but maybe this was some sort of divine punishment for cheating what wasn’t meant to be cheated.

She’s been in the world for two months and she’s his anchor. And he knows that’s a lot of pressure to put on an eight-week-old baby. It’s a lot of pressure to put on himself to be the best dad he possibly can be to try and make up for the one she’s lost without ever knowing.

It becomes too much, too quickly. Suddenly, Maddie is around nearly every night, and if she’s not around, then she’s at the firehouse and he gets it, she’s lonely and he’s lonely. But sometimes when he holds her, he can feel the way she silently cries on his shoulder, his t-shirt wet and he knows she’s not crying for him. Or at least, for this version of him.

So, he’s angry. The burning rage inside of him seems to be growing more and more as each day passes. He loves her but he doesn’t know why or how he can love someone he doesn’t even know. When they touch, it’s like he’s touched her a thousand times, when she smiles, it feels like home and when she laughs, it causes a twisting in his stomach that feels familiar. As though he could listen to her laugh for the rest of his life and never get fed up of it.

He just doesn’t understand _why_ ,

“Did you hear what I said?”

He breaks from his thoughts, his fists clenching, “I heard you.” He mumbles out, before he stands up and finds himself pacing the floor of his living room. The desire to just put an end to it, to everything, twists like a knife in his chest and he needs to punch something. He tries not to notice the way she’s gotten up and moved a little closer to the door, her eyes moving every so often as though she’s plotting her escape. There’s regret on her face and he gets it, he really does – he needs to put an end to it before he destroys her, too. He’s broken, too shattered for her to fix and he can’t let her spend the next however many years of her life trying to put him back together into someone he’s not sure he can be.

“You don’t agree?” Her voice is small, and fuck, it hurts a part of him he doesn’t even know exists. He wishes he could just hold her and promise her that he’ll be the person she wants him to be but he doesn’t know who that is.

“I think you need to move on with your life, Maddie. Move on from m-from _him_. I’m not him. I can’t be him.”

“I’m not asking you to! I-I just… I-I think we should try, to be us again? To be parents to our daughter, to… I don’t know, choose each other? Don’t you want that?” She’s practically begging him, they can both hear it – there’s tears falling down her cheeks and a part of him wants to wipe away her pain and tell her it’ll be okay. But he knows it won’t.

Instead, he takes a deep breath, knowing he’s made his choice. They’re all better off without him, even his anchor. “This has gone too far, Maddie. I-I got your hopes up, it was cruel… but I’m not him. I’m not your Chimney, I’m not anyone’s Chimney.”

“You can try—” 

“No! I don’t want to try! Don’t you understand? I don’t want to try, I don’t want you to try. I just want to be left alone!” He’s screaming, only stopping himself from taking another step forward when she stumbles back with a look on her face he’s never seen before. She’s _terrified_ of him – yet another reason to leave.

“I didn’t want this. I tried telling you that I didn’t want this and you didn’t listen to me. No one listened to me!” He pushes past the look on her face, and the way her body is shaking to grab both her arms, looking her right in the eyes, “Let me make this as clear to you as I can – I never wanted anything to do with you to begin with. Let me go, I'm begging you. Just--- get the fuck out of my apartment.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice, ignoring the way his heart feels like it’s been ripped out of his chest despite the fact he’s the one telling her to leave, as she grabs her bag and slams the door behind her.

At last, he was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of a gun, and suicidal thoughts. Proceed with caution!

When Buck storms into the firehouse the next day, he’s ready to kill. Seething with rage, his fists clenched, he looks around the subject of his anger only to come up blank. “Where the fuck is he?!” If Hen is surprised at the tone of his voice, she hides it well, only shrugging her shoulders, “He’s not turned up yet.”

They both knew how strange that was, Chimney – amnesia or not – was always the first through the doors. “What did he do now?” He looks at the sympathetic look on her face, and he relents in his anger only slightly as his shoulders slump, thinking of the way he had to – yet again – hold his sobbing sister until she managed to cry herself to sleep. It wasn’t even his pain to feel, but it still ran through his veins as though it was his own.

“I don’t even know, Hen. He… I couldn’t even get a word of sense out of her. She dropped Amelia off at mine last night, told me she was going to talk to Chimney and when she came back—I don’t even know. It was like the time I held her in the hospital all over again, I couldn’t calm her down enough to get a word from her other than the fact her Chimney is dead. That’s all she kept saying.”

“Maybe it’s time we all accept it.”

“After I punch him for making my sister cry.”

“You really think violence is the answer?” It’s Bobby’s voice behind them that causes them both to startle, Buck’s eyes darting towards the man he sees as a father figure. He knows he’s right, that hurting Chimney wouldn’t solve anything (he’s researched it, a knock to the head most definitely would not revive his memory), but selfishly, it might make _him_ feel better even if it’s only for a few seconds. He doesn’t think Maddie would even be angry this time because before, she still had hope.

“It’s not the answer but he deserves it.”

“Just go be with your sister, she needs you more than we need you like this.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice, shaking his head, “You all take his side, but a brain injury is no fucking excuse to act like an asshole. She’s still the mother of his child, even if he doesn’t think of her as anything else.” He doesn’t wait for a reply, doesn’t look at any of the people he considers to be his family, having felt a massive Chimney shaped wall between him and them since the man had woken up without remembering his life as it was right then.

* * *

Maddie runs to her brother, she always does, when things get rough, it’s his arms she wants around her because she can’t have Chimney’s anymore. She can’t find the words, _I never wanted anything to do with you to begin with_ continues to ring through her head, over and over again until she can barely take it anymore. Her little brother holds her as she cries until somehow, she manages to fall asleep.

She wakes up to a note from Buck and an empty apartment – he’s gone to work, Amelia is safe with Athena for the day. She loves her daughter, she really does but she has her father’s eyes. When she looks at the baby, and then the photographs Mrs Lee is so proud to show her of what he looked like when he was a baby, the resemblance makes her heart ache. Amelia is all Han, perhaps it would have been nice as a reminder if he had died that night. A small reminder that even with him gone, there was still a piece of him that lives on.

But he’s still around, still looking at her with those eyes she knows all too well, still speaking to her with that voice she has memorised, sometimes he’d touch her and she’d find her body leaning into it because she _knew_ his touch, she know those lips and that smile and she can still remember the way he would tell her that he loved her.

_I can say it enough for the both of us._

Suddenly, she hates herself for not saying anything to him the night before. For letting her fear get in the way – no version of Chimney would ever physically hurt her, but she still found herself pressed up against the kitchen counter in an attempt to get away from him. Still found herself planning the nearest exit just in case he turned. His fists had been clenched, his breathing heavy, the anger in his eyes… she was so certain in that moment, she’d broken him down too much into something he wasn’t.

Doug always told her she was the problem.

She can still feel his hands on her arms, gripping her tightly, _begging_ her to leave. Maddie can’t describe the sudden feeling of dread that washes over her – last night she had been scared of him, but in that moment, she was scared _for_ him. It’s the way her heart thumps uncomfortably against her chest, her palms clammy when she realises the look in his eyes wasn’t one of anger. She knew anger, she had seen it every day for over ten years.

Maddie doesn’t have time to think about it, grabbing her keys from the side before she practically runs from her brother’s apartment. Driven purely by instinct, hoping more than anything that she’s read the situation entirely wrong as she replays every single second from the night before in her head. _Let me go._

Driving to his apartment, she relies on memory more than anything – she can’t get the image of his face from her mind, the lost look in his eyes, the relief on his face when she turned to leave. When she turns the key to his quiet apartment, it does nothing to alleviate the concerns she has running through her head, “Howard?”

It’s the sickness she feels, her entire body shaking when her eyes fall onto the dining room table, trembling fingers picking up the envelope with her name so clearly written on it, accompanied by a ring box. Hen had told her what Chimney’s plans had been for them before… before everything went so wrong. It still doesn’t stop the hurt she feels when she sees it for the first time, because it was real, he had planned it, he had bought a ring and she would have said yes. Without a moment’s hesitation, despite every single reservation she had once had about life as a married woman again – Maddie Han would have been the woman she wanted to be.

She doesn’t read the letter, her fingers running over the drying tear stain that has forced the ink to run ever so slightly, feeling the wetness. Which means it’s still fresh, which can only mean there’s still time. Her legs take her to the bedroom, almost automatically, pushing the unlocked door open, “M-Maddie?”

For a moment, she’s stunned into silence, standing frozen at the door as she just looked at him. She can see the way his hand is shaking, his finger hovering over the trigger of a gun she has no idea how he got hold of. “You came back?”

“I love you. I’ll always come back.”

His head is shaking, tears slipping down pale cheeks, but all she can see right then is the way he’s holding the gun to his temple, his finger on the trigger. “N-no, you… you don’t love me. You don’t---”

It takes everything in her to step forward, just one, careful, hesitant step, relieved when he doesn’t move, “Of course I love you, I just… loved our life together, too, but-but having you here, with me and Amelia, whether you remember me or not, surely that has to be better?” She’s crying, she feels as though she’s losing him for the hundredth time, not sure if she can talk him down from the ledge he’s on right then. “Can… can you put the gun down? Can we talk?”

“No-no, I’m fixing it. I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t be here. I remember, I remember being in the car not knowing what was going on, I can remember Bobby’s face when he saw, when he showed me the piece of metal sticking through my head. I remember being scared, being told I’m a miracle, I remember being lonely… a-and then I was stabbed. Once was a miracle but twice? I shouldn’t have survived—I shouldn’t—I remember the pain of the knife, I know it was your---your husband?” She nods her head as confirmation, but doesn’t say anything else, “H-he took you, I was… I was there for you but he took you and l-left me to die and I shouldn’t have lived. But I did.”

His finger twitches ever so slightly and she takes another step forward, her hands out in front of her, “Howie—please put the gun down, we can talk about this without that, don’t you see?”

“No! I have to fix it! I should have died that night, I should have—no one survives three times, I’m proof of that. I’m broken! I was shot-I was shot and I should have died. So I have to make it right, this is how I make it right. Then you can move on, you can tell Amelia about the amazing man who would have raised her, everyone can be happier without walking on eggshells around me all the damn time. This-don’t you see, Maddie? This is the nicest thing I can do.”

The anger comes from nowhere, and suddenly she’s in front of him, her hand bravely on the one holding the gun. It’s easier than she expected to remove it from his hand, her hands shaking as she clicks the safety on, more grateful than ever that her dad’s idea of bonding had been taking her and Buck to the shooting range. It’s only when the gun is safely discarded on the bed that she lets that anger and sadness truly overwhelm her, both her hands on his chest, pushing him back, “Nice?! Nice would have been you letting us in. It would have been you telling us what’s going on in your head so we don’t get to this point, Howard. Nice would---nice would be just… trying to live—w-why would you… why would you want this?”

The screaming turns into weeping, her fists clenched, slamming down on his chest, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you for—” His arms are around her waist, pulling her close to him before she finds her arms wrapping around his neck, hiding her face in his chest as they both sob. “You can’t leave me again, okay? You can’t---you can’t do that. You don’t get to say goodbye.”

When he drops to his knees, he pulls her down with him, completely exhausted and broken, “Just make it all stop, please, it hurts. Everything hurts.”

She holds him even tighter, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears continue to fall. “I know, just let me in, okay? Stop pushing me away. Please. Please stay with me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Maddie clutches onto the mug a little tighter, bringing it closer to her body in an attempt to feel some level of warmth before she lets out a sigh. “Maddie?” Tired eyes look up at the sound of his voice, forcing a small smile on her face as she does so.

“Hey, Chim.”

“What are you doing up? It’s three in the morning…” There’s a concern in his voice that she’s still not used to hearing, causing her to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool.

“I just can’t sleep anymore.” Maddie can remember promising him that they needed to be honest with each other if it was ever going to work. Even if he couldn’t remember every moment they shared together, even if he still weren’t the same Chimney she knew and had fallen in love with. There were traces now, she could see them when she looked close enough, his smile was starting to feel familiar again. “It’s not your fault, really. It’s just, I can’t… after what happened…”

They both know what she means by that, it’s been over two weeks since she had found him in his bedroom with a gun to his head. Now, when she closes her eyes, she imagines that she was too late, or simply decided not to turn up at all. His head nods in understanding and he reaches to take her hand in his own, pulling back at the very last second as though he’s changed his mind.

Their relationship is complicated, to say the least. They sleep in the same bed, but they don’t go beyond holding the other’s hand. He makes her laugh sometimes, and she makes him coffee in the way he likes (with far too much syrup), they coo over their baby girl as they sit way too close on the couch but still, their lips haven’t touched. It’s complicated, and Maddie doesn’t know if it’s something that can be fixed but she loves him and she hopes, a part of him, even if it’s just an invisible part at that moment in time, loves her too.

But, there’s no doubt that whatever version of Chimney she has right then, he adores their daughter with every fibre of his being and really, that’s all she can ask for. They’re co-parenting, sharing a mutual love for each other whilst keeping the other at a distance just in case.

“Why are you awake?” She finally asks, big eyes looking up at him, watching as he takes a deep breath and then, unexpectedly takes her hand in his. He seems nervous, his mouth opening and then closing again until she squeezes his hand in the hope it’ll encourage him to be honest. That’s all she ever asks from him, it’s all she can ask from him.

“I-I remembered something.” He seems… nervous, but she nods anyway, “I-I’m in a hospital bed… y-you… your face is all bruised and you’re in a wheelchair… you tell me that we’re okay and I remember feeling so relieved to see you. And then you kiss me?” Maddie tenses ever so slightly when she remembers the first time her lips pressed against his, their tears mixing together, the relief that both of them were alive, that they had survived the hell her husband had put them through.

She only nods her head, “That… was our first kiss. I know not the most romantic setting, but it was you… it could have been anywhere, and it would have been amazing.” With a nervous laugh, she glances at him, her cheeks slightly pink, “My-Doug, I know you’ve had other memories about what happened there. You know he stabbed you, that was after I-I… after I had to kill him and I thought you were dead. I don’t know if I told you that before? Doug told me you were dead, so for two days I didn’t have you in the world anymore.”

“I remember being scared, not even for myself but for you. I was… no one knew where you were, I thought you were going to die. I remember thinking it was my fault?” She nods, but doesn’t expand upon it, he doesn’t need the guilt of Doug befriending him weighing on his shoulders if he doesn’t remember it right then.

Maddie wipes at the tears that have made their way down her face, “Do you think maybe you can come back to bed, Maddie? Can I hold you?” The fact that he’s asking is enough to have her nod her head. She hates how desperate she must look but she craves his touch more than she can ever put into words. The longing for everything to be normal was gone, the countless prayers she said in her head to bring her Chimney back to her had stopped – he was alive, and that was all she could ask for.

Her drink is forgotten when she moves to stand up, taken aback when lips are suddenly against hers. His hand drops from hers, only to move to her waist and for a moment, she forgets every bad thing that has been said between them. It’s instinct, for her arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing her body flush against his as their lips move in sync with each others as though, even just for a second, they’re _them_ again.

By the time they pull away, Maddie is smiling, her first genuine smile in as long as either of them can remember. Chimney breathless, when his fingers curl around a strand of her hair, lost in the moment until she’s taking her hand in his, practically pulling him towards the bedroom.

It’s not until they get to the bedroom that she turns to face him once more, “We’re going to be okay, Howie. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember everything, it doesn’t matter if you’ve changed… we’re going to be okay. Me, you and Amelia. We’re family, right?”

“Family… I always wanted one of my own.”


End file.
